


Release

by mggislife2789



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, F/M, SPN Kink Bingo 2019, Spanking, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, Therapy Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:58:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: After the death of her brother Logan, Y/N shuts down, unable to process the emotions she’s holding inside. When she can’t take the building pressure, she turns to her boyfriend Sam for release.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Release

Putting your brother on the pyre was almost too much, but even that couldn’t bring your feelings to the surface. Chopped wood served as Logan’s altar, the crackle of flames his psalm and you turned your head into Sam’s coat to escape the burning scent of wood and skin.

A hunter’s life was never guaranteed, but he was too young. You were supposed to go first.

“Y/N!”

How was the body on the pyre the same one that had called out for her just hours before?

You told him he could come with you when you knew he wasn’t ready. Rather than hearing him bitch and moan and complain that you were treating him like a child, you told him he could come along with you, Dean and Sam as long as he stuck by your side. You promised your parents you would protect him and this is how you’d honored them.

Logan had never been one for listening to authority, especially because he didn’t view you that way after your parents died – you were Y/N, the big sister, but you could’ve put your foot down and you didn’t. It was your fault.

When your back was turned, he went to fight the werewolves on his own. His bloodcurdling scream caught your attention and drove you forward, leaving Sam and Dean in the dust. Whether you’d come back alive was a mystery, but you didn’t care. You’d run faster than you ever had before. But it wasn’t enough. By the time you found him, they were on him, ripping him to shreds and drowning in his blood.

Neither brother could stop you when you barreled forward, machete in hand. Through heated tears you took down everything in your path until they were gone and you were screaming your throat raw, sobbing into the dirt beneath your feet. “It’s over,” Sam had whispered. It didn’t feel like it.

Now, standing here in front of the pyre, you couldn’t shed a tear. They’d all been ripped from you already.

——

“Hey, you okay?”

You were standing in the middle of the kitchen eating Oreos by yourself at 2:30 in the morning – and this was a nightly ritual – no you were not okay. “No,” you whispered. The tears always burned, but they never came.

Sam walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. In the strength of his grasp, you managed to relax a little bit. He smelled of musk and cinnamon; one of the few things that calmed you at all since Logan died. “I just feel…wound up. I can’t do anything without this uncomfortable vibrating feeling rolling under my skin. I can’t focus. I-I, Sam I can’t cry.” His hand combed through your hair, knowing that the feeling tended to relax you. “I miss my brother and I want to cry, but I can’t.”

“What can I do?”

You took a deep breath, not really knowing how to put what you needed into words. “I need to focus on something else. I need…”

Spinning you around, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching your own for an answer – for something he could do to make your pain go away. “You can tell me. Anything, Y/N.”

You’d done this before, just not in this way. “I need you to…spank me. That’s what I need to focus on.”

Without another word, he grabbed your hand and walked you back toward your room. Immediately, you could relax. He had you. You didn’t have to focus on anything but the resonance of his voice against the bunker’s walls, the feel of his hand and the strength of his presence.

Surrounded by the walls of your room, Sam whispered. “Strip.” It was just the two of you now. Nothing else mattered.

The tension you’d been feeling over the last few months slowly began to fade away as the cool air hit your skin. You took a deep breath and gave yourself over to the feeling; the troubles that plagued you gave way to the feeling brewing inside you – a mix of anticipation and comfort that made you shiver.

Having done this so many times before, you assumed your position on your hands and knees, ready for it to take on a whole new meaning. It had been months since you’d genuinely smiled but the ghost of one kissed your lips when Sam bent down to kiss your shoulder blade. “Remember the word?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

Each heavy breath upped your anticipation, the arousal beginning to drip down your thigh.

You needed it. The crackling pain. The heated fire.

But nothing happened.

Because he knew what you needed more than you did. He always knew. That’s why it was safe to give yourself over to uncertainty and pain.

When his pointer finger slid gently over your pussy, you quivered, not expecting the light touch. The softness. A whimper escaped as you closed your eyes but they popped back open when his hand came down on your ass just seconds later. He gave you no time to guess what he would do next.

This.

The blooming heat that spread outward from his handprint. The sound reverberating against the walls. The instant ease that took over your body.

His hand came down again, harder this time and you whined, wanting more but unable to think of any other way to ask for it. “Count them,” he demanded. “Starting now.”

Your legs shook with the force of his next hit and you lurched forward, the mattress dipping under your weight. “One.”

“Stay still.”

Another hit thudded against your left cheek before he switched to the other, alternating between sides and intensities and timings as you called out the numbers. Your pussy throbbed with each hit and each beat in between. By the time you got to 20, you couldn’t stay still anymore, shaking uncontrollably as Sam pressed his hand in the middle of your shoulder blades and pushed your top half into the mattress with your ass up in the air. The cool sheets did little to calm your overheated body. If anything, it all intensified. “Ten more,” Sam said lowly, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Harder?”

“Yes…please.”

You were so close. The tears damned up against your eyes ready to fall – ready to let go.

Glancing back, you could see his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, but in his eyes the hesitation still lingered. “We don’t have to,” you whispered.

“No, no it’s okay,” he replied, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, his eyes growing darker when he continued. “Count.”

One, two and three came in quick succession with a ferocity you had never encountered before. A guttural groan resounded throughout the room and it took you a second to realize it had come from you and not Sam.

Each subsequent hit brought you higher and higher, your hands clutching at the sheets, white knuckles waiting for the release you knew was right around the corner. “Eight! Oh my God, Sam! I’m-“

Nine and ten cracked across your skin and you cried out, tears finally streaming down your cheeks – the dam of emotions spilling forward after so long shoved behind closed doors. “Thank you.” Your knees gave out and you collapsed. “Sam, fuck me, please.”

Quickly, he peeled his jeans down and threw them aside, crawling up behind you and yanking your hips upward to line his cock up with your slit. When he thrusted inside your pussy, his hips came flush with your ass, bringing back the heat from his earlier assault. The pleasure and pain washed your mind free. Finally, you were free. “Sam!”

With every cry of his name, he picked up his pace, leaving you breathless and devoid of thought. Every muscle trembled as you came and your walls milking him dry as he screamed behind you. “Oh hell,” he breathed before immediately regaining his composure. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better,” you replied. You reached up to bring his lips down to yours. “Thank you, Sam. I-“

“I know. Stay right here.” Feeling more content than you had in months, you watched Sam head to the bathroom and come back with a bottle of lotion. He lathered his hands and began massaging your ass, the chill and sting both comfortable and uncomfortable. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taking a deep breath, you replied, “Yes, but let’s just stay like this for a few minutes.”

Sam bent down and kissed the handprints he’d left on you. “Take your time.”


End file.
